The Real Don Quixote
by SerialStoryLover
Summary: Will might be the anchor, Mac might be the EP; but we all know that Charlie is the real showrunner around here. Can he give them a helping hand? Post-episode 4.
1. Chapter 1: light in the darkness

**_"_I'm_ Don Quixote. You be Sancho, she'll be Dulcinea, and everyone out there is the horse." - We Just Decided To._**

* * *

It was only as the lights slowly shut down with their corresponding screens that Mackenzie realised just how long she had been standing there.

No one in the control room said anything to her other than goodbye as they left, one by one, for home. The news of her and Will's earlier outburst in the newsroom had, as usual, spread around the staffers like wildfire. Not that she consciously heard many of them leaving. She felt like she'd just been very slowly hit by a truck for the last hour and a half. It was numbing and disorientating.

All that was left was the dim light from the hallway as Joey left the room mumbling a "See you, Mac" as he did so.

The realisation that she was alone, in the comforting gloom of her control room finally allowed Mac to release the breath that she felt like she'd been holding since Don had told her Giffords was alive. What came out was something crossed between a choked sob and a deep breath.

That afternoon her emotions had been thorough a tight ringer; first of all worried about Will, then angry with him, then running on an adrenaline high for a straight hour, then getting one over on Reese...And now it was just calm.

She couldn't explain exactly why she was starting to cry – it just seemed that she had kept it in for so long that the cork had popped out the bottle; like a forest fire, it was her body's way of wiping the slate clean and putting her back to level one. So she stood there on her own in silence for a few minutes.

As it began to subside, she found herself looking back up at the dark, reflective screens, digesting it all – something they rarely had time to do before they had to move swiftly onwards to the next thing. She sniffed loudly and wiped the tears from her face clearing her throat. She should probably go.

"You know I love Will like a son, but he can be a complete jackass sometimes." Mackenzie nearly died of shock as she spun around to see Charlie Skinner watching her from the glass door. How long had he been there? Mackenzie blinked, trying to make out his face properly in the dim light.

As her eyes adjusted, she could see that there was a concerned expression on his face as he examined the tear stains on her cheeks and her puffy eyes. She just looked at him, unsure of where he was going with this.

He shook his head, making an indistinguishable noise under his breath as he walked the few short paces between them and took her hand in one of his, wiping a stray tear that had slipped, unbidden from the corner of her eye from her face. He smiled, kindly.

"And he's usually a jackass when you're involved." She blinked again, confused. Charlie laughed, "Seriously Mac, you do something stupid, he does something stupid. It will all even out in the end, believe me."

With that, he raised her hand to his lips and gently kissed it, giving her a wink.

"Go home. Get some sleep, and come back here on Monday ready to go again, and this will seem like a lifetime ago." He squeezed her shoulder and left.

She watched him until he was round the corner, and then slowly turned back to the screens. A small smile appeared on her face as she sniffed away the last of her sadness.

It _had_ all worked out, hadn't it? The fight had been forgotten as soon as Maggie came into the room. It was just them, as a team, working to get the story. And they had got it right. Her team, her wonderful team! And it would be okay.

They were going to take the fight to Leona, and woe-betide her if she decided to bite back; because they would figure out a way to win. As she remembered something Charlie had said, she giggled to herself as she removed her headset and grabbed her notebook to make for the door.

_Feet of fucking steel!_

* * *

**_I do have an idea for a short follow up... willxmac anyone?_**


	2. Chapter 2: in the absence of trapdoors

**_The Real Don Quixote Ch. 2: in the absense of trapdoors_**

* * *

Out in the newsroom, the gloom and slightly supernatural effect it had on the outline of all the empty desks and computer screens persisted. Somewhere there was a faint hum of a vacuum cleaner, but all other signs of life had gone. Except, that was, for the two lights remaining at the edges of the room; the first was emanating from her office, and the second from Will's. She stopped, frowning. He was still here. Did she _want_ to see him?

To give herself time to decide she headed to her own office to quickly scan her emails – there was nothing important – before shutting her computer down, putting her files in her briefcase, and slipping the strap over her shoulder, picking up her jacket. With one last look around her office, she flicked off the light and found her eyes once more wandering to the now sole light in the darkened room.

She sighed, berating her need to do this: she couldn't just leave when the last real conversation they had had was a pretty nasty fight; this was Will. There was enough anger between them already, so if she could end work with clearing this small bit of it off their slate, she ought to try and do so.

Stopping at the door, she found him standing at his window gazing down into the rain-washed streets below. He didn't seem to have heard her so she tapped softly on the wooden door, feeling a little more apprehensive now that she was here.

Will turned around immediately, looking surprised to find someone still there. It quickly vanished however, when he saw who it was – it was not actually all that surprising that _Mac_ would be here. They were both workaholics. She seemed to be a little on edge, and he relaxed a little, offering a small, slight apologetic smile as a welcome. This seemed to reassure her and she slowly moved into the room.

He did feel guilty about earlier. Yes, he had been stupid, and petulant and childish by changing his contract, but he had done it all out of a need to protect himself – or so he had thought at the time. Looking back now, Mac was just about the best thing that had happened to him in the last three years, so of in hindsight it was completely idiotic.

Realising how absorbed he had been in his musings, he looked back up to find Mac gazing at him curiously, leaning against his desk as she waited for him to come back to her.

The both opened their mouths to apologise at the same moment, realised this, and then laughed awkwardly as they quickly shut up again.

"I –"

"Mac, I'm sorry about earlier." Will cut across her firmly. She tilted her head thoughtfully, considering what he had said, before shaking it slightly and readjusting herself on her perch before she replied.

"I'm sorry too. I was out of order. I shouldn't have said…what I said." She finished lamely, her eyes narrowed at a spot somewhere just above the door handle. She looked as though she was trying to figure out how she had got from the start of the sentence to_ that_. Will laughed, and she shook her head again, shooting a rueful grin back at him. "We're really terrible."

Will nodded, his eyebrows raised in understanding, grateful to hear her say that she hadn't meant it...even if she had. It was better than being hostile. There was a quiet moment.

"I still shouldn't have changed the stupid contract – it was immature and – "

"I get why you did it." She cut across him, no longer smiling, but looking at him sadly. There was no anger or annoyance in her voice, just regret.

"Yeah." He didn't really know how to answer her. _Why_ did he not know how to answer her? Was he now feeling guilty for bringing up the affair when _he_ was the wounded party here?

It was just that she was so damn…apologetic about it all. She wore her remorse and her regret boldly on her sleeve from the moment she had stepped back into his life – when all he had wanted to do was rant and rage at her; make her feel like shit for what she had done. But he had not needed to. She had done that all her on her own.

God, she drove him crazy.

"Look," He decided to just let it go for now. When they didn't bring up – the thing-which-should-not-be-mentioned – they got on fine. Great, actually! They made a good team and they both new it. He smiled. "Why don't you let me buy you a drink – the others all headed to the bar…it's nearly five in the afternoon, so why the hell not – I'll buy you a drink and we can just forget about it. What do you think?"

Her face brightened for a minute – inside she was dancing that he had decided to move on from it – and she smiled back at him. And then she remembered something.

Shit. Five o'clock. SHIT! She wanted to bang her head on the desk! Here was Will asking to just spend some time with her – to make it up and be friends again – trying to take a step forward, and now she knew she about to take one step back. Shit.

"I'm –_really_ sorry Will, I'd would love to, but –" She closed her eyes, cursing inwardly. Why oh why?

Will cottoned on very quickly.

"You have other plans?" His voice was distant and much quieter. Letting out a frustrated sigh she opened her eyes again to meet his; she could see pain there. She was such an idiot. "Letting herself out of jail"? What kind of crazy-ass shit was that? What a stupid idea.

"I said I'd meet Wade." She said it quietly, half hoping that he wouldn't hear it; but she was staring at him so she saw the stiffening of his shoulders, the flinch in his eyes and his fingers clenching around his elbows. Yep, back to square one. Their whole relationship was like a terrible game of snakes and ladders.

She tried to look apologetic, even smile, but that was clearly a step too far for her emotions which were completely messed up right now. Would they ever get past these stupid screw ups, she wondered.

After staring at the floor for a moment as though hoping a trap door would appear and he would fall through it, a pained smile crossed Will's face and he jerkily moved forward to pick up his blazer and sling it on.

"Maybe another time then. You're heading down, right?" Crap. He was taking The Nice approach.

"Yeah." Mac said glumly.

"Then I'll come with you." After she nodded her agreement, he awkwardly placed a hand on her shoulder, encouraging her off the desk. Sighing and fiddling with the button holes of her jacket, she walked slowly out so that he could catch up with her.

It was going to be an uncomfortable elevator ride.

As they passed through the darkness together, a shadowy figure watched their cold retreat with disappointment and in his eyes. He was sorry for them – knowing that with time that they could get there, but worried about everything that might happen in between.

Shaking his head, Charlie stuck his hands in his pockets and headed up to his own office. What had he told Mac? "By Monday this will seem like a lifetime ago"?

He really hoped so.


	3. Chapter 3 Pt I: Cupid By Any Other Name

**_The Real Don Quixote Ch. 3 Part I: Cupid By Any Other Name_**

* * *

It was a cross between intoxication, and a feeling similar to that weird transitional stage between dreaming and waking when the texture and sensations of the dream seem to bleed into reality as the consciousness reloads into awareness. She had not dared to believe that she would ever again get to feel the warmth of Will encircling her as he held her, smell his aftershave as it wafted through her nostrils, and hear the dim thud of his heart as her ear rested on his chest, held there fast by strong arms and firm hands. She didn't want to let go.

But of course she would have to. Sure, this was in its own weird way a "Valentine's Day" present; but it wasn't a "Valentine's Day present" in _that_ sense. It had been nice to say the words to him, though. She could pretend just for a moment that they were okay, and everything was normal again. And by God was she glad that she'd said them to the right man tonight! The thought of Wade made her pull herself just a little bit closer to Will and he seemed to return the increased pressure subconsciously because he didn't look at her.

As the last few staffers headed into his office he seemed to come out of his trance and breathed, "Thank you" into Mackenzie's hair. She grinned into his shoulder, before pulling back and looking at him properly, for once openly displaying her feelings on her face.

"My pleasure." She said honestly. They slowly moved away from each other, as though some section of each of their brains was telling them that this was against their primary instincts. Now came the awkward moment where neither of them knew what to do next. Luckily they were saved any further uncertainty by Neal calling Will over to his computer: Kahlid was apparently asking for him.

Smiling, Mac watched him go over and offer a few words to Kahlid. Feeling slightly less buoyed than she had been when she was in Will's arms she looked around the room going through her standard end of the day mental checklist before heading back into her office. She tried not to catch anyone's eye, not wanting to be heckled into heading to the bar. After the day she'd had all she wanted was a long, hot bath and maybe a glass of wine or 3 before she tumbled into bed and instantly fell asleep.

Her hopes were dashed as she made it all the way into her office, leaning her head heavily on the door as she closed it behind her, and then turned around to find Charlie siting in one of her chairs, his legs crossed, the top one jangling to some rhythm, and with an expectant look on his face.

"Charlie –" Mackenzie groaned, knowing this was going to be a fight that she probably wouldn't win.

"Mackenzie." He mocked, not moving an inch in his seat. Mentally berating herself for not looking around before she had closed the door, she chose to act as though he wasn't there and instead got busy with packing up her things.

Charlie watched her silently for a couple of minutes, letting her think she was going to get away with it. But, of course she wasn't. "You're getting out of here awfully fast. Hot date?"

She shot him an annoyed look, but didn't answer.

"Look, Jim and Maggie – or whoever it is she's with –"

"Lisa and Jim, and Don and Maggie." Mac said shortly, not entirely sure why of all things this had broken her silence.

"Right, them – are all going to join us at the bar before going off to do their fluffy Valentine's – well, whatever it is they've got planned, so why don't you bring Wade along?"

Mac looked at him as though he'd just told her that two plus two equals twenty. "Charlie, how high a dosage of drugs do you think I would have to be on to willingly do that to Will?"

There was a flash of knowing in Charlie's eyes before he returned to acting nonchalant. "Will's a big boy Mac, he can look after himself."

"Will's age has nothing to do with it." Mac muttered fiercely, shoving files into her briefcase. Charlie rolled his eyes, growing impatient.

"Look, what you just did for Will –"

"I'm not going to bring Wade to the bar Charlie, because I've broken up with him." Mackenzie snapped, flipping her briefcase shut with a flourish. Charlie just looked at her, stumped. "All I want to do is go home and curl up in bed. I'm glad Will's happy, he deserves some recognition after what he did for Kahlid."

Her voice grew wearier as she talked, and by the end of her little tirade she was looking exhausted, one hand on her hip, one supporting her on her desk. Out of respect, Charlie gave her a little moment to straighten her head out and then stood up, sticking his own hands in his pockets and looking at her kindly.

"Mackenzie, you would want Will to be happy regardless of who he does or doesn't help." A lone tear fell to her cheek; maybe it was due to her distressed and confused emotional state – she had no idea how she had gone from planning a romantic evening with Wade at the start of the day to ending up giving Will a Valentine's gift (of sorts) – or maybe it was purely out of exhaustion. She just didn't know.

Charlie tilted his head trying to catch her eye. "You know Will wanted to punch Wade for doing that to you?" Mackenzie let out a short laugh, finally meeting Charlie's eye in a weak smile, but her eyes were full of regret and sadness.

"He told me – he told me not to jump to conclusions about Wade." There was a bitter note in her voice when she spoke his name this time. "Said Wade would be crazy to risk losing me."

She cleared her throat and dried the tear track, hating herself for appearing so weak – for knowing that Will would always be able to do this to her.

"He was." Charlie reassured her quietly, a warm smile on his face. But Mac's expression was still one of confusion.

"Wade said – it was because I had never told him about me and Will – so he decided to get something out of it." As Mac replayed the scene on the terrace in her mind, hurt washed over her once more and she had to bite her lip to stop it trembling. Feeling the need to sit down she slumped back into her chair feeling pathetic. This was the second time in a month that Charlie had seen her like this, and more than ever, it made her long for that bath and the wine – she needed more and more of it by the second!

Making a disapproving noise, Charlie walked around the desk and sat on the edge of it facing mac, and put a finger under her chin to make her look at him. The tears and anguish in her eyes yanked painfully at him and he said in as firm a voice as he could muster,

"Mackenzie McHale, you listen to me. Wade is a stuck up, pompous, pussy-ass no-wit, political dead-end, and shallow excuse for a gentleman, who wouldn't deserve you if he were the Emperor of the Universe. He treated you like shit and he'll get his come-uppance for it, and he will be spending this evening alone and miserable. You, on the other hand, have a family here who love you – even if some are less willing to admit it than others – and who will always have your back; and who, if you let them, will send you home tonight feeling a bit more cheerful than you do right now." He searched her gaze, trying to get his words to sink in. Mackenzie looked like a lost little girl in that moment. To his relief, she then blinked and sniffed, giving her head a little shake as if to get herself out of a trance.

"God, you're right." She said, sounding very choked, and nasal. She gave him a watery smile. "Thanks Charlie."

"That's my girl." He pulled her up and into a warm hug, which she tightly returned, silently thanking him for being such a good listener. Who would have thought it?

Right at that moment, there was a sharp knock on the glass and Sloan walked in.

"Oh my God – I'm sorry, I'll just –"

She turned to head back out the door, but Charlie called her back, breaking away from Mackenzie gently. "Ms Sabbath? Would you mind taking Mackenzie here and getting her a very large vodka as fast as is physically possible?"

Mackenzie laughed at that, wiping her eyes. Sloan looked between them, clearly concerned for her friend.

"Yes, sir." She nodded firmly. She smiled at Mac who slowly got her belongings together and began to walk with Sloan out of the room. As she reached the door, however, she turned back and looked at Charlie. She wanted him to be proud of her for something after that little outburst of misery. She held her head a little higher.

"I made him wait outside before I told him to leave, lose the election and go to hell."

Charlie beamed at her as Sloan looked curiously between them, clearly joining the dots. "I'll drink to that." He said happily. "Go on. I'll meet you ladies down there."

Looking a little chirpier, Mackenzie left with Sloan leaving Charlie alone with his thoughts.

_One down, one to go_. They really didn't make this easy for him.


	4. Chapter 3 pt II: Fathers and Sons

**_The Real Don Quixote Ch. 3 Part II: Fathers and Sons_**

* * *

Will looked up at the tap on his door. Charlie was standing there, Bourbon in hand and looking at Will with raised eyebrows.

"What are you doing here?" Charlie demanded. Will looked back at him, confused. Taking a dramatic sigh and rolling his eyes, his boss took another large gulp of his drink and flopped down into the chair in front Will's desk. He pointed his finger accusingly at Will. "I'll tell you what you're doing here: being an idiot!"

"I don't understand." Will spoke slowly, wondering if Charlie had actually managed to get drunk – something he had always presumed had just never been an issue for the guy; it was just one of those strange things in life, like people who are immune to certain diseases.

A look similar to the one that had crossed Charlie's face the day that Will had stubbornly announced he was going to get his contract changed – _that_ day – the day _she_ had come back into his life.

"If you were looking for the right moment to pull yourself out of the hole - tonight was it!" Ah. It dawned on him what Charlie was referring to; and Charlie immediately spotted the resigned expression on Will's face. But this only made him more determined, "She got the whole team to re-enact your crazy film for you, which – thank the Lord – you managed to display some form of human emotion for – that hug? That moment – _that_ was when you should have made your move! It's Valentine's day for Christ sakes! They're all down there at that bar right now! Stop being a pussy, you coward!"

Frustrated to the point of shouting, Will leaned over and seized the glass out of Charlie's hand and put it a safe distance from the man before running his fingers through his hair a couple of times and getting up jerkily to go and stare out of the window.

He knew that Charlie was just trying to help; and he knew that the older man cared deeply, not just about his happiness, but also about Mackenzie's – and he was glad of that. He was grateful to Charlie for this in the same way that he was silently grateful to Jim; grateful that she had people who were looking out for her whilst he kept hurting her as he tried to figure out how, or if, to forgive her.

Because he could not forgive her just yet, even if he might want to. Maybe he never would, he didn't know. Every time her name popped into his head one of two things would happen. Either a memory of the two of them in happier times would float across his mind and he would feel warm inside for a couple of minutes before the bitterness that those times were gone overtook him; or the perpetual images of her and Brian in the bedroom, or up against a wall, or on the sofa would pound themselves against the inside of his skull. It was like having a boxing match going on in his head.

Every so often though, a third process would occur. One in which his mind created (to his great annoyance) scenarios involving himself and Mac which had never, and may never, come to pass.

He pinched his nose between his fingers as such images started to flood into his mind again.

"I – Charlie, I wish I could, but I can't."

Now Charlie was the one looking confused. "Can't what, William?"

Will turned around, and Charlie nearly recoiled at the look of guttural devastation on the man's face. He looked as though he might cry.

"I can't forgive Mac!" He spread his arms, as though trying to ensnare a solution in the space in front of him, or exorcise all the negative feelings he held for Mac into this area. Charlie tilted his head, sympathy for Will beginning to seep into his veins. "I – God! I wish I could Charlie, I really do! There is no one who would rather things could go back to the way they were than I do, but that's never going to work, because every time I shut my eyes –"

He reeled off staring, lost into the space before him, as Charlie looked up at him, at a loss for how to react. He had thought Will was maybe just being proud, or stubborn; he knew (obviously) that he had been hurt, but apparently he had underestimated just how much.

Not able to find any words, Charlie got up and took Will's arm, guiding him into one of the chairs by the meeting table. Immediately Will put his head in his hands, letting out a soft moan. Drawing up the chair next to him, Charlie produced a hip flask from his pocket and forced it into Will's hands.

"Now listen to me, and listen good. I know what love is like and believe me when I say that you two youngsters have only seen the half of it. You think you get it, but you don't. I'm not saying that she's not the reason why you're screwed up –"

"Good!" Will choked out, taking a swig from the hipflask. Charlie held up a hand, patiently, to stop him from going further.

"But as crazy as this might sound to you, she is the solution."

Will stared quietly at the bottle in his hands, processing what Charlie had said. He knew that. Really! Will knew without a shadow of a doubt that the only person who could make him truly happy was Mackenzie McHale; however, since her betrayal three years before, she was also the person who could make him truly miserable. If he could just manage to get rid of that second part…

He felt a warm pressure on his arm as Charlie grasped it reassuringly.

"I'm not saying it's going to be easy on you, or on her. But you guys seriously need to work this out. For all our sakes, not just your own!" A hint of humour had returned to Charlie's voice as he tried to cheer his friend up. Will did not seem to hear him, however.

"She's with that asshole, Wade, anyway –"

"She broke up with him tonight." Charlie said calmly. Will's head shot up and Charlie nodded, smiling slightly. He leaned back in his chair appraising the younger man, wondering how much to tell him. He settled on full disclosure, "I believe her exact words were 'leave, lose the election, go to hell'."

The ghost of a smile flickered across Will's face, and he took another slow swig from the flask. "I'll bet they were." He muttered wryly. He thought of Mac's last words to _him_ tonight: "Happy Valentine's Day." Out of himself and Wade he seemed to have come out on top. God, why could this not just be simple?

Charlie smiled back, feeling this was as far as he was going to get tonight. Clapping a hand on Will's shoulder, he stiffly got to his feet, old age clawing at his muscles. "Come on kiddo. Come and join the others for a drink – one drink – show your face and go home and get some sleep before we have to go through all this again tomorrow.

Will sighed. Charlie was a persistent bastard. He had cut 'getting his own way' down to a fine art. In years to come historians would write about the cunning and guile of Charlie Skinner.

Heaving himself out of the chair he stumbled over to grab his blazer and his briefcase, and Charlie ushered him out of the room, a victorious grin slapped across his face.

"'Attaboy!"

* * *

_**Bonus points to anyone who gets the two West Wing references. I admit the first one is a little bit hazy :p**_


	5. Chapter 3 Pt III: A Guy Walks Into A Bar

_**The Real Don Quixote Ch. 3 Part III: A guy walks into a bar...**_

* * *

They bickered good-naturedly all the way to the bar and found most of the News Night crew – Jim had brought Lisa along, and even Don and Maggie had decided to stick around for a bit – were gathered around their usual perch. Neal was sitting with his girlfriend laughing at his craziness in punching the computer screen, whilst she held his hand in hers. There were cheers as Will and Charlie joined them, but Will had to look around for Mac.

Charlie discreetly nudged his elbow, and he turned to see her hunched over a cocktail chatting to Sloan at the other end of the bar. He quickly greeted the others, before – and fully aware of the many pairs of eyes that must be watching him – heading over to where Mac an Sloan were and gently squeezing Mac's shoulder.

She turned around in surprise. "Hey! I didn't think you were coming."

He shrugged his jacket off his shoulders, shooting a smile at Sloan, who returned it, watching their conversation with interest.

"Charlie dragged me out." He smiled, going slightly red. To his confusion she became very interested with the stem of her cocktail glass.

"Me too." She said quietly, shooting shy smile back at him. The only sign either of them recognised to show that Sloan was quietly slipping away to re-join the group was the light squeeze she gave Mackenzie's elbow. Will didn't notice, however, and called the barmaid over.

"I'll have a scotch on the rocks," he sized up what remained of Mac's cocktail, "And she'll have another."

Taking the bar stool next to her, he turned and caught a glimpse of hesitancy in her eyes. He put his hands up as a sign of truce. "We said we'd go for a drink, remember?" He paused wondering if he should really go down this road tonight. "And since Wade's not here to interrupt this time…"

Ouch. She turned back to her drink sharply and picking it up, downed the remained in one gulp, replacing it wearily on the table.

Shaking his head, he wondered if he would ever stop putting his foot in it. Tentatively, he reached for her wrist, gently placing his hand over it, "Jesus, Mac, I'm sorry. You know how I say things and then –"

To his surprise she covered his hand with her own, and smiled weakly back at him, her eyes watery. "S'okay. I should have guessed Charlie would have told you."

Their drinks arrived, and he smiled half-heartedly back at her. He could see she was upset over Wade – which hurt. A lot.

"He didn't deserve you." Will said quietly, squeezing her hand gently.

"You didn't deserve _me_." She said it so quietly that he almost didn't hear it. He knew she didn't meant it in the usual sense, as it sounded. He didn't quite know what to say to that! Half of his insides shouted that he loved her still and that she was talking bullshit, and the other half was heartily agreeing with her. He opted to be neutral.

Pushing her glass towards her, he raised his glass and looked expectantly at her. "I'm sorry that Wade gave you such a shitty Valentine's day, but Mackenzie McHale you have made mine, so thank you."

He said all of this very fast, and was slightly worried that he was sending mixed signals – maybe he was – but he looked beseechingly at Mackenzie, wanting to just be normal and have a good time as friends, just for one night. She seemed to get the message, and smiled at what he said. She raised her own glass and chinked it gently against his.

"Well I'm glad I managed to do one thing right." He looked down at the hand which was still covering his, which was resting on her arm, and pulled her away.

"Come on. Let's go and be sociable."

Mackenzie nearly choked. "Wow! Will McAvoy is telling me I need to be more sociable. Times really must be bad!"

She grinned as he bumped her shoulder playfully as they took their jackets and drinks and walked over to the rest of the group.

Once more they had managed to overcome their strange, awkward relationship. Maybe just taking tiny steps was the way to do things. If there was one thing that had come out of tonight, it was hope.


	6. Chapter 4: Friends and Non Lovers

**_The Real Don Quixote Chapter 4: Friends and Non-Lovers_**

**_This is a bit more Mac/Jim than anything else, and it's shorter because I really felt that Sorkin actually nailed the angst in this episode, so I don't really want to touch it._**

* * *

"When you do propose to someone that's the ring that'll do it! Yeah…" And with that failed triumph of a last line, Mackenzie turned back to the door and left Will's office as fast as was humanely possible. She didn't see that thoughtful look on his face or him tearing up the receipt; she just wanted to remove herself from the moment, and fast.

Without looking left or right she made for her own office, desperate for some peace and stillness to soothe her buzzing head. This earned a few curious looks from around the bullpen, with most assuming that she and Will had simply had another tiff. Jim Harper, however, frowned; because Mackenzie wasn't looking upset, rather a strange mixture of confused and…there was no other word for it – broken. How anyone could be broken and be confused as to why did not make any sense to him. Mind you, oftentimes, Mackenzie McHale didn't make a lot of sense to him either.

Seeing that no one else was going to her aid, Jim dropped his pen warily on the desk, and wearily got to his feet, stretching out the kinks in his knees as he did so.

A few saw what he was doing and gave him looks as if to say "On your own head, pal." But he didn't care. He and Mackenzie were a lot closer than anyone gave them credit for.

Bracing himself for whatever he was about to find on the other side of that glass, Jim went to see if he could be of any help.

When he pushed the door open he found the hunched over figure of Mackenzie, leaning on her desk, head in her hands. She wasn't crying, but she wasn't moving either; and she did not acknowledge him, though he had made no attempt to be quiet. He walked over, laying a soft hand on her shoulder to let her know that he was there, and perched on the edge of the desk facing her.

"Anything I can do?" He asked softly, hunching down to try and catch her eye. She shook her head and he couldn't read the expression etched on her face. All he could tell was that, obviously, something Will-related had happened. She cleared her throat.

"Ever had a moment that just epitomises – where you realise just what an absolute idiot you've been?"

"All the time." He replied easily, shooting her a cheeky smile. She slowly raised her eyes to meet his, one hand still supporting her forehead, but there was a hint of bemusement, and she was clearly trying to keep the wry smile which was tugging at her lips, firmly inside.

"Sorry. Stupid thing to ask _you_." She managed dryly, amused. Jim laughed, pleased that he had at least managed to pull her out of her unhappy thoughts.

"Want to talk about it?" He frowned at his knees, certain he already knew the answer; but he just managed to catch the smile that finally managed to emerge from her lips. She looked up at him fondly and he returned the look. She covered the hand he had placed on her shoulder with one of her own, and sighed.

"Yes, James. The less said about your antics, the better."

He briefly closed his eyes in a now familiar exasperation. Before, in Afghanistan, he had thought that Mac felt she could tell him anything – anything that was worrying her; and he had thought that she had done so; they had been in it together.

_Now_ he knew that although they were still the best of friends and, not to forget, a brilliant team – there were some things which meant so much to Mackenzie that she shared them with no one. They would remain locked in her heart until she worked out how to deal with them.

Squeezing her shoulder, he nodded at the appealing look on her face, reassuring her that he understood and would not press the matter any further. She immediately got up, pulling him into a hug. For a second he worried that he had become a sort of replacement for everything that Will should be, but he dismissed the thought almost immediately, wrapping his arms around her tightly and letting her rest her head on his shoulder. With or without Will, she and he would still be close. They had been through so much shit together. But he hated seeing her miserable like this. And if Will couldn't meet her half way, then he decided that he would be there until Will did. She just needed someone.

"Mac? We need to –" The two pulled away from each other as Will popped his head around the door. _Speak of the devil and he shall appear_, Jim thought.

Jim was all for dropping the contact immediately, but Mackenzie reassured him by keeping a casual arm around his shoulder.

"The rundown?" Mac asked a slightly curious-looking Will – in an impressively calm voice, Jim thought. Will nodded, still processing the scene before him.

"Okay." Mac finally let go of Jim, and ruffled his hair, giving him a grateful smile and a wink as she passed by Will and out into the newsroom. He pushed himself off the desk to follow her, ignoring the questioning look from Will.

Although he had a lot of respect for the man, and he trusted his professional integrity, Jim highly suspected that he had gone and done something stupid which had then hurt Mackenzie…again.

Anyway…he was allowed to be a little bit biased.

* * *

_**For all you Charlie lovers out there, fear not! He'll be back in full force next chapter at a certain Anniversary party! :)**_


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